Lou, thank you for your contributions to this fine endeavor and congratulations to all who received some bling.

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My pleasure, Mark. The frugal Gong Fairy strikes again.

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Grishin, congrats on surviving the Nieuport onslaught. Those scout jockeys are wankers and will abandon you first moment they see the enemy. Don’t ever count on their help or protection. Another lesson Hansjord had to learn the hard way. Congrats on the confirmed kill.

Lou, oh the joy of joys! Finally some bling. The frugal Gong Fairy has woken up from her hibernation and begun bestowing awards left and right. All it took was a firm shake by the neck to get her attention. Thank you for the exotic award. How do I call it off? L d’H?

Also, congrats to the other recipients recently visited by the Fairy.

1 March, 1917 10:00
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, LdH
68 confirmed kills
Awaiting one victory confirmation

Brass Hats’ orders didn’t matter at the moment. Yes, patrolling friendly front lines between Nieuport and Diksmuide was the plan, but not when the Huns were paying them a visit at their own aerodrome. The Germans flew over the aerodrome in formation. It was a mixed flight of D.II’s and D.III’s. Two of them detached as Toby lifted off and was chasing them. The first was a dummy to follow him while the second one would get on Toby’s tail. They were working well together. It was well organized and not a free for until now. The Huns realized they had to work in teams to succeed. Mulberry wasn’t new to this game and kept both enemies in sight. Once he realized the first Hun wasn’t going to attack, his concentration was directed towards the second one which right now was screaming down on Toby’s tail. He flicked his Tripe to avoid damage and began to attack his assailant. One tight loop, then another. He looked back to see just in time a biplane place itself right behind ‘Anne’. A dive and then a climb. He was now chasing another Albatros. Other planes, both biplanes and triplanes flashed in front of him. The air was thick with scouts and a collision was a near certainty. He ignored it all and stuck to his target. All too well. He realized just a fraction of a second too late he was going too fast and would overshoot his victim. Toby climbed to lose some speed. The Hun followed to get on Mulberry’s tail, but his speed was insufficient to keep up and had to dive back down to pick up speed. Toby was ready. He had the Albatros in his sights and firing. The improvements made to the gun’s synchronization gear could be felt immediately. It was over quickly. So fast in fact that he didn’t realize his tail was shredded by bullets or a collision. He looked back with concern to examine the damage as the enemy plane hit the ground and rolled over a few times. But it didn’t disintegrate. Those D.II’s were made tough! Toby moved his control stick in all directions and tested the rudder. He couldn’t feel much degradation in flight characteristics, so he pressed on. There were some shapes dancing in different directions. He picked one of the pairs and went after them. Toby observed a Tripe chase a D.III. He could tell the difference by the shape of the wings. This one had the pointed wingtips. It was the newer model and had the fuselage painted black with a white band around it. There was a black number 3 painted on the band. The German pilot evaded his flight-mate’s attack and was climbing. Toby was behind and proceeded to chase after his new foe. He fired from a further distance than usual, but was able to land a few hits. Just enough to slow the enemy down. Once he’d gotten closer, his Vickers made short work of him. The increased rate of fire worked well. Too well. The poor Boche disintegrated mid-air. The wingless fuselage plummeted straight down nearly hitting a farmhouse below. Mulberry was already pointing his mount towards another pair chasing each other. Another Albatros with a black fuselage and a white band banked left in front of him. This one had a black 4 painted on the white band. Toby started firing immediately. The hapless German was caught in a crossfire between Mulberry and his wingman. He soon was diving down and smashing into the ground. The mission was over and Toby wasn’t in the mood to fly around with a mangled tail. He landed at the aerodrome and filed his claims.

YouTube Link

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Well apparently the Gong Fairy had one too many hot toddies when he was preparing yesterday's awards and inadvertently presented an officer's medal to an NCO. This grave error has been corrected and the appropriate prestigious "Other Ranks" gong has been bestowed upon the most-deserving Feldwebel von Toombs.

Apologies for any confusion this may have caused in the mess.

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Ohh, but the other one looked prettier ...

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Agreed Fullofit, but given young Seb's ability to run up his tally I imagine he'll be sporting the HHO not too long after he's been made an officer. And the GMMC is the NCO equivalent of the "Blue Max" so I wouldn't feel too bad for von Toombs.

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Also Fullofit, to your question, Chesty can now add LdH at the end of his other awards in his signature.

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Thanks Lou. It’s already pinned to his chest!

Congratulations Chaps for the awards and medals! all very well deserved! Thank you Lou and Raine for all your hard work! It really means something when the Gong fairy arrives!

Grishin, I hope you recover very quickly you've made a great start mate!

Mfair, I hope Ganz makes a swift and full recovery well done on the EK1

Fullofit, quelle jolie poitrine vous avez monsieur!

Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs GMVK, EK1, EK2
Royal Prussian Jagdstaffel 18
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders
16 victories
27 claims


21:15hrs 28th February 1917
It was great to be back in my hut, surrounded by the greatest friends a man could wish for. While in hospital our Jasta has had a good few days, no losses and some victories to boot. My hut-mates, made me very much at home, the stove was warm, some new books, were waiting on my bedside-table bought for me by Paul, and Walter, not to be out done had filled my tobacco jar. We toasted each other in our hut with a 1811 bottle of brandy discovered by Hans in the basement of a burnt-out hotel a couple of mile east of our airfield. The brandy was good and warmed my throat and chest, filling us with bravery and hope. Paul raised his glass, Be Brave! Be swift! Be Lucky! We slept looking forward to the day ahead.

19:00hrs 1st March 1917
As I walked, muffled against the cold to Hans and my waiting aircraft, my body tingled with the excitement knowing within minutes I would be alive again. Our mission today was airfield defence over Iseghem, about 15 miles north as the crow flies, but not as the Albatros! Flying our usual pattern, southeast, under fire from the British infantry to Lille, large circuits up to about 3000m, then north along the front to Ledegem, then cutting cross-country east, a few miles north of Menen. The Sun’s light was dancing playfully on the edges of the clouds, making mountains in the air that are at once, gold, grey, dark and blinding white. I am riding with the gods, as no man before my generation ever dreamed. Once again I find myself lost within this moment, the wonder of flying. The gentle hum of the wires, the wind on my cheeks, every sense alive, every fibre of my being one with my plane. Each creak of the wood, as it finds it equilibrium in the forces of lift, gravity, thrust, drag and wind is part of me, is my body, a groan of deep satisfaction. I am reborn, I am truly alive. Each molecule and cell in my body truly free!

"...The gentle hum of the wires, the wind on my cheeks, every sense alive, every fibre of my being one with my plane..."

During our flight north, I noticed Paul’s plane flying slightly erratically, I was his wingman today, flying about 35 meters of his starboard, slightly behind and slightly higher. However, for most of our northbound flight he kept rising and sinking, like some ocean fish. Initially, I thought it some game and tried to match his movements, laughing with sheer joy as I kept instep with his mad carousel ride. Then I noticed, what should have been obvious to anyone else not dangerously beguiled with the joy of the air, after a week in hospital. His plane was damaged. It was missing the lower starboard wing tip, no doubt damaged by British ground fire after take off. I wondered why he was still with us and not flying home. But that’s Paul, that’s what it means to be in Jasta 18, all for one and one for all! Be brave! Be swift! Be lucky!

As we turned east we spotted friendly flugabwehrkanonen blossoming in the air around our target airfield. We kept good formation as we flew towards the distant specks that were clearly our flak’s target. As we approach we saw a couple of flights of Srutters, bold as you like, harassing our helpless airfield. As we approached, Paul Strahle made the right decision and broke for home, realising he would be more hinderance that help. He saluted me as he flew towards the safety of our airfield at Menen his painted white axe flashing in the sun as he went. I watched him for a moment before fixing my gaze on the specks and blossoms ahead.

As our Jasta entered the dogfight all became very chaotic. Planes flashed meters from my nose, enemy and friend flying head on, probing for a weakness, always hoping to find one who might be prey. I chose one and after a couple of head on passes I was able to get off some good shots. I fired about 60 rounds into the enemy aircraft at a distance of about 100 meters, the plane dived, I thought it a ruse and followed it down. It was not a trick, I think, but I lost sight of him under my wings. The brown camouflage of the British plane disappearing into the browns and greens of the Flanders countryside. I saw a crash site close to me, about 1000 meters southwest of the German airfield at Iseghem and 200 meters west of the main road to Menen and no sign of my foe so assumed that must be him. The Strutter had white B painted on the fuselage and the number A995 on the tail. There was very little wreckage but lots of smoke. I will put in a claim in the hope someone spotted it crashing, but I’m not hopeful.

As I climbed back to the fray above me I saw Walter hot on the tail of another Strutter, I willed my plane towards him to provide support and protection. Sadly, I was too far behind to have much impact on the fight but I did have a perfect view of the Strutter crashing in to the ground consumed with flame and smoke falling as it did to Walter’s guns. All at once the sky was empty again except for Walter and me. After a few circuits of the airfield we put down at Iseghem. Exhausted but fulfilled.

It was a blow when arriving back at Halluin I found no one who could verify that my Strutter had gone down. The Kommandant dismissed out of hand and has told us that we will fly this mission again such is it’s importance to the war effort. However, my disappointment was short lived. At about 5pm we were called on parade. After a short speech from the Kommandant and some kind words about the Jasta’s performance today. I was awarded The Goldenes Militär-Verdienstkreuz. I have never been as proud as I was in that moment, my heart hammered in my chest and my eyes stung with pent up tears of pride I was too proud to set free. He read out the words of the citation ...

“Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs is an incomparable pursuit pilot of magnificent bravery, which reflect the power and steel-hearted will of his ancestry. Since arriving at the front scant weeks ago his exploits have been prodigious, and he always presents himself as a fine example of tenacity and mutt. Despite being absent from the fight on more than one occasion because of crashes and wounds, his ferocious energy has not be dampened, and he returns each time to the fray, gaining victory after victory. To date he has accounted for the destruction of sixteen enemy flugmaschinen, and has submitted claims for ten more.”

Be bold, be brave, be lucky!

To be continued...

Lots happening Gents! Great stories all. Seb, please remember, Captain Ball was brave and bold. Also dead. Please take care of Sebastian!

Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6
March 2, 1917

Ganz limped into Wulf’s office and saluted him. “Herr Ganz! We didn’t expect you back so soon!” Ganz smiled and replied, “it was not as bad as it looked Sir. The nasty bump on the head hurts worse than the leg. I’m ready to to go Sir.”
Wulf slumped back in his chair. “Are you sure? You still look a bit pale to me.”
“I’m sure Sir. A little cold air will set me to rights” Ganz replied.
Wulf shuffled a few papers and looked up. “Alright. But, if you don’t feel 100 percent once you get up, you will return immediately. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir!” Replied Ganz

That night at dinner Wulf presented Ganz with the EK1. Dinks all around.

Nigel Fransworth Philby
Sgt, RFC
1 Rfc Sgn.
2 Unconfirmed

March 3, 1917.


The Hq must be crackers, I was sent into the dark skies on a 3 a/c Offensive Patrol out past Loos. Past under a 6/ac Patrol then spotted more Hun flights.{ I was nervous as an Old Dog in a room full of cats.} Finally the leader dove in a turn attacking 6 e/a. I fired away as I shot pass the Escort 3 Huns then zoomed and side pass ( while putting on a fresh drum ) lower into the 2 seats with a Bang Bang Jam. I tried to hide in the clouds ,but the Scout seemed to find me. so flick rolled and spun in. Down near the deck , the e/a went home . Upon landing I found that we had lost 1 N-17. No claims were recorded.

Mfair, I know you’re right, Seb has promised Kitty he’ll stop taking risks, thank you for your kind words! Glad your back, please take it easy too, head wounds are nasty!

Carrick58, they're really great pictures, especially the second one of Nigel and the Albatros passing. There are really heart stoping moments in this sim playing it like this! Glad you got away mate!

Seb, elle est jolie, n’est pas? Now that I look at it, it is very pretty.
Welcome back from the hospital. And all I can say is wow! That’s some spoils of war! That over a hundred year old bottle of brandy must have been something! Toby is green with envy.
Wonderful report. Loved the imagery and the retelling of the action. You had a few close calls with those head-on passes. Too bad about the Strutter, but the Gong Fairy worked her magic and bedazzled young von Toombs with well deserved bling.

MFair, take it easy and don’t overextend yourself on the first day. The War will wait.

Carrick, that had to be some fancy flying. We need to somehow convince you to post some videos from time to time.

2 March, 1917 09:00
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, L d’H
71 confirmed kills

The Albatros Toby shot down two days ago and two from yesterday have been confirmed. The one with number 4 on the fuselage went to his wingman, FL Bristed.
Naval 8 has been tasked with a raid on enemy airfield at Jabbeke. It was risky going this deep into the Hunland. All sorts of bad things could happen. Their plan was to avoid most, if not all of German patrols. This involved flying north to Nieuport then following the coastline past Ostend and all the way to De Haan. After that, they would turn south and find the aerodrome. The flight was uneventful and they’ve managed to avoid all air Huns. They then attacked the aerodrome. It was a total surprise and the Germans were not able to respond until after the first strafing runs were over. They’ve made a few passes, regrouped and turned back for home. This time via direct route, not afraid to meet any opposition. Their flight back home was also uneventful and each plane landed at Furnes after a lengthy mission.

Argh, sorry to be so very late with this!

Leutnant Lazlo Halász,
Jasta1, Proville, Flanders
February 28th 1917

155 missions
120.22. hours
12 victories
20 claims

Eisernes Kreuz 1st Klasse

Struggling to catch up with all the wonderful tales!

Seb, great job with the story continuation!

Grishin, congrats on your first victory!

Congrats to all the bling recipients!


Leutnant Lazlo Halász,
Jasta1, Proville, Flanders
February 28th 1917

“Well, what did you think of him?”. The pretty nurse had found them a table near the window of the restaurant and the waiter had already taken their order. Lazlo fidgeted with his chair, trying to make enough space for his large frame to fit.

"Yes, him I like". replied the large man.

"And wasn't I clever to solve the riddle of his sister's letter?" Tilie smiled, triumphantly.

"Yes my dear, you very clever spy lady, no questioning."

They had a splendid meal of duck a l'orange, the plump bird having been roasted on a spit in the hearth of the great brick fireplace and the back of the restaurant where they had sat waiting for their table to be readied.

"I wonder if he'll manage to escape". mused the nurse.

"Hmm, maybe so, maybe not so. We will see."

Saying goodbye was always difficult. Lazlo didn't know when he would next be able to visit Tilie, and she was concerned at some of the stories he'd been telling her over dinner, about the fearsome triple-winged machines that had been bothering the local Jastas up and down the front. She told him to be sure to fly safely and take no unnecessary risks.

"I don't want you to end up back in hospital like Von Toombs. He's going to be discharged in a couple fo days and he's told me he's going to be much more careful. You need to do the same".

"Agh, I'm old man now, much experienced. Don't be frettings Tilie my love. I will be fine". Lazlo gave her a big bear hug and long, lingering kiss, before heading off in the direction of the market square where he hoped to find a truck to take him back to the air field. Otherwise it would be a long walk home. At least the weather had warmed up and the snow was gone, for now.

To be continued....

Fullofit, Congrats on lastest victory! You are well on your way to toppling Major Billy Bishop score! well done!

Harry, war has made Lazlo Halász old before his years, please stay wise! I loved that we were able to meet in story! Look forward to the continuing adventures and more crossovers!


Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs GMVK, EK1, EK2
Royal Prussian Jagdstaffel 18
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders
16 victories


2nd March 1917


Along with my new medal yesterday the Kommandant gave me a small box of cigars! I invited him to the hut to help, Paul, Walter and myself finish our 1811 Brandy. He was delighted and with a formal nod of his head and a click of his heels he politely accepted. He is every centimeter a Prussian officer, at times he can be somewhat gruff and occasionally sombre, but he really is a first class C.O. He flies with us more often than not and doesn't shy away from a fight, though I have noticed when he leads the flight he is prone to take far fewer risks than Paul or Walter. He is older, not by many years, but seems a generation older in attitude. More like my parents than the chaps in my hut.

I realised after last night he carries a huge burden for us as a Jasta and our lives weigh heavy on his noble shoulders. Our war in the skies is intensly personal, often one on one. More often than not we are full of admiration for our opponents, their skills and bravery. We can see their faces, smell their castor oil as we pursue them. And if I'm being completely honeset ( I would never voice this out loud) there are moments I want to wave and not shoot them down with murder in my eyes. No matter which side we belong we are a brotherhood of the air. I wondered if just for one day we airmen could unilaterally decide not to kill each other and fly together, soaring and enjoying this brotherhood of the skies.

It seem that this intimacy we share in Jasta 18, both in the air and on the ground has perhaps aged our C.O. well beyond his years.

This morning we awoke up to a refly of yesterday mission over Iseghem. The Kommandant led our Kette, with Paul leading the other - eight Albatros rising to the challenge. We would be utterly invincible today. Same route, same flight plan, the weather was warmer, the skies brighter and the hour earlier but apart from that the same. We arrived over Iseghem by about 08:30 and the skies were utterly clear of enemy planes. We spotted some DFWs with Albatros escorts but nothing else. We praticed formation flying and flew as close to one another as we dared. Walter thought it fun to throw his goggles across to me as I flew off his wing tip, he shouted above the hum of our engines, "See if you can pass it round the Kette!" He threw the goggles I reached out to catch them, but they were lost in an instant in his slip stream. Sometimes I wonder why they even let us loose in these things!

After a splendid hour we headed home to lunch and a impromptu football match on the field. Sometimes its hard to imagine there is actually a war on, and that mere miles from us thousands of men are trying to kill thousands of other men over a strip of muddy, cratered land.

To Be Continued...

More fantastic yarns Gents. Toby and Seb are still doing a wonderful buisness.
Harry, cant wait to see Lazlo back in the skies.

March 3, 1917
Offstv Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6
Flanders

Ganz felt good to be back in his Albatros. The 9 machines were all on the field ready to take off. Today's flight was balloon defense SW of St. Quentin. As they left the earth and started the slow left turn Ganz noted Barenfanger suddenly pull up. He knew what that meant and scanned the skies above. 5 machines at about 1500m. Then he saw the bombs impact the field. He climbed for height but the flight was attacked by the 5 Strutters and it became a low level twisting dual. Ganz fired a burst at one Strutter crossing his path then saw a Nieuport pass overhead. "This is not good" he thought . As he looked left his heart went into his throat. Not 30 yards abreast of him was a Strutter and he was staring straight into the muzzle of the gunners Lewis. Bullets hit his machine from engine to tail. He side slipped away and dove. Then he smelled petrol. How he was not hit was a miracle but he still had to get down. Luckily no one attacked as he hit the field and came to a stop. He jumped out of his machine as fast as his bum leg allowed and ran to a gun emplacement for cover. He had a front row seat to the show. It was all over in 10 minutes and the flight came in. All were damaged but no one was hurt and Barenfanger had brought down one of the Strutters.
Wulf walked up to Ganz and asked how the flight felt.
"Well, you told me if I didn't feel 100 percent to come back." Ganz pointed over to his bullet ridden Albatros, "As you can see, Sir. She's far from 100 percent. So I landed as fast as I could."
Wulf laughed out loud. Ganz did not.

Yikes, those scrambles are pretty scary affairs, MFair!

Fullofit, yet more congrats coming at you!

Seb, steady on with the brandy and smokes and btw... who won the footie?

Harry, yes they are as you know all too well. Lucky if you can get some speed before you have to turn and since you start the fight so low you run out of sky real quick. A bit of a pickle, what!

Harry, old man Lazlo? Collins and Swanson must be ancient, then! So, did he get a ride back to base or did he walk?

Seb, Billy Bishop? Who’s that?
Ah yes, stogies with brandy, what a combination! Hopefully von Toombs didn’t get sick of them. Looks like it was quiet on the other side of the mud and throwing things at each other while in formation seemed like the most exciting thing to do. Where are those Tripes now?

MFair, that was another close call. Stay frosty. Luftstreitkräfte needs all their experienced pilots now.

3 March, 1917 08:50
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, L d’H
71 confirmed kills

They’ve been sent deep into enemy territory again. During the morning briefing they learned they would be patrolling over enemy aerodrome of Vlisseghem. Toby was making his lazy turn to starboard after takeoff. He was bringing the nose towards the rally point south of the aerodrome. He took one final look at the airfield and the hangars he was leaving behind. Just one final look at his home before going across the lines into the Hun territory. Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention, just above the airfield. Archie! Big dark puffs of smoke and among them a bunch of nasty Albatroses! Where’d they come from?! He banked to meet them, checking on the way if all his wingmen were airborne and ready to do battle. No time, two of the enemy machines were already swooping down on him. They were the same chaps from the other day. Black fuselages with a white band. A black number on each of them. The two he tangled with made a sweep ahead of him, one above the other below. Toby went after the one above, deciding he was a bigger threat. He had a number 6 on the fuselage. It didn’t take long for Mulberry to get on his tail and unleash barrage after barrage of deadly lead. The Boche was riddled with bullets and disappeared under ‘Anne’s’ fuselage. Toby turned his mount around in time to see the smoking biplane crash into the ground. He quickly looked around to see another pair chasing after one another. Toby joined them and saw ‘Bob’ was being hunted by another Hun sporting a black fuselage. This one had a number 7 on the sides, but it wasn’t a lucky seven. Toby’s bullets shot the German plane’s propeller to splinters and the engine was set ablaze two seconds later. He went down and Toby heard a sickening crash behind him. ‘Bob’ was right behind and witnessed the entire engagement.

YouTube Link



Mulberry looked for more signs of battle but it all seemed quiet now. All except some dots flying east. This meant only one thing. The Huns were running and the Tripehounds would chase. He followed them all across the Front and caught up with them over the enemy’s aerodrome. ‘Bob’ was with him and already engaging one of the biplanes. Toby was on the tail of another one with a number 5 on the side. The Hun noticed him in time and began to maneuver in a vain attempt to shake him off. Mulberry had a difficult time with this one. He was very slippery and continued an oscillating flightpath. Toby was getting frustrated and was spraying his bullets needlessly. He nearly had him when ... Blast it! The gun was empty! This new synchronizing gear on the Vickers was working too well. Toby went through his 500 rounds in a record time. Now he would have to watch his prey slip away, or would he? The German wasn’t doing too well. He continued in a descending spiral without any sign of recovering. He smashed into the ground near the aerodrome, just behind one of the trees. Toby’s mood improved immediately, but he didn’t stay long to admire his handiwork. He was in enemy territory without a single bullet, after all. ‘Bob’ had also had enough and formed on Toby’s left. They both returned safely to Furnes without further incidents. When they landed, a lorry came to a stop near the office. There was a broken body of a pilot laying in the back. It was Bristed. He smashed into the ground following a low-flying Hun. May he rest in peace.

YouTube Link